


To Protect

by Hedgi



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Cisco ramon defense squad, Gen, Kidnapping, a lot of OCs name for tamora pierce characters, cisco's coworkers care, minimal violence, powers reveal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-02
Updated: 2016-02-02
Packaged: 2018-05-17 18:10:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5880709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hedgi/pseuds/Hedgi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cisco Ramon is smart enough to know that anyone outside the Flash family knowing he's a metahuman is a Bad Plan. After all, the general sentiment towards non-Flash metas is less than great.</p><p>His coworkers at the CCPD care more than he thinks. Cisco may think he's just a consultant, but he is theirs, and that means Protection.<br/>no matter what the consequences might be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Protect

Cisco double checked the framing on yet another shield, before nodding in approval and setting it aside. He’d been up almost all night, tinkering away at his little desk at CCPD, but it was worth it. He’d been getting a lot better with his vibes, and if the meta he’d been seeing showed up, having the extra insulation and lightning proofing would be a big help for the cops.

“Morning, Cisquixote,” a detective called as he walked past, heading for his desk with two cups of coffee. Cisco nodded back, grinning. As nicknames went, it wasn’t bad, and it felt nice to have someone give him one instead of the other way around. He wasn’t sure who had started it, but there was a good chunk of the CCPD who used it, including one newbie who hadn’t actually realized it wasn’t his real name. “Whatcha working on?”

“Better shields,” Cisco answered, checking the clock—had he been up for a full 24 hours again? Crap, Caitlin was going to kill him. He got up, stretching, and headed for the coffee machine. A few officers were standing around, talking. He knew all of them, had worked with them a few times. They never went out of their way to make him feel stupid, or like a child, never talked down to him. He liked that.  As he dumped sugar into his cup, he thought he saw a handful of detective glance his way before going back to their conversations.

“Heard the Flash caught another metahuman criminal last night,” one said—Cisco caught himself before nodding. One, it wasn’t his conversation, two, he was pretty sure it might reveal he knew more about the city’s vigilante nightlife than everyone assumed. Plus, he wanted to hear more.  
  
“It’s too bad,” said the second officer, a taller woman with coppery hair. “All we hear about’s the ones that hold up jewelry stores and destroy ATMs and crap. Give a bad name to the rest of them.”  
  
“The rest?” Cisco recognized them, Officers Cooper and Goodwin. Cooper was fairly new, she’s the transfer who hadn’t realized that his nickname was a nickname, but Goodwin was an old friend of Joe’s. He kept listening, telling himself it wasn’t eavesdropping so much as gathering information that could help Barry.

“What, you think the only people with powers are criminals?” Goodwin laughed, and something about it sounded a touch forced. “Nah. I’m sure there are plenty who just don’t want the spotlight or the attention. Good people.”

“What would you do if I randomly got, you know, powers?” Cooper asked suddenly, which made Cisco’s hands twitch. She transferred from Midway, but that didn’t mean much. “I don’t, but I mean, well, some people just got them out of the blue, right?”  
  
“Well, if they made flowers grow I’d request a partner change, I’ve got allergies. But we don’t turn on our own, here.” Goodwin threw her empty coffee cup away. “I think break’s over, c’mon.”  
As they left, Cooper nodded at Cisco. “Hey.”  
He nodded back, and waited a few minutes before taking his own massive coffee back to his desk, going back to the shields.  


* * *

  
Three weeks after Cisco’s shields saved seven officers from hospitalization, Kyle Nimbus, the Mist, showed up again. He’d somehow forgotten that while he was deadly, STAR Labs had a small stockpile of antidote and that even someone untrained could take him out with a moderately powerful and well-sealed vacuum cleaner. The Metahuman task force was far from untrained, and it might have taken some last second tinkering, but Cisco got a half dozen vacuums up to par before much damage could be done. One the one hand, Officer Danvers was probably going to have a weak lung for a few days, but on the other hand no one had actually died. That was a win in most books.

One of the officers, though, still felt it was his place to spend the rest of the day grumbling. “You on that Anti-freak task force could have gotten us all killed,” he snapped, gesturing at the vacuum that had contained Nimbus before he’d been transferred. “Bringing that thing in here, trusting the Flash to get him locked up. They’re all the same. You remember last spring, the thing that attacked that professor, the “burning man”? Yeah, Flash just lets him run free, I saw. That creep could torch a city if he wanted, but you—“ he pointed, “don’t hunt him down, why not?”

Cisco wanted to say something, defend Martin and Jax, and Ronnie’s memory, felt his blood boiling, but—if he did, what would people think? It wasn’t bad to support Metahumans like Barry—the Flash—but what if this dirtbag got suspicious? Worse, what if he found out what Cisco was? It was one thing to talk about supporting metas, another entirely to be one, and while CCPD had a pretty good track record, Cisco wasn’t sure he wanted to get outed to this guy. _Ronnie deserves someone to stick up for him, though!_ Cisco took a small step forward, opened his mouth, and closed it again as Officer Ahuda stepped forward.

“Shut your mouth or I’ll shut it for you, Guibord. You’re not on this task force for a reason. You don’t like our work, take it up with someone who gives a rat’s a—“  
  
“Kebibi, enough,” Joe looked up from his desk, sighed, and got to his feet. “Officer, you have a problem?”

“Yeah, I—“ Guibord was purple as a sunburned turnip.

“Then do something about it. Productive-like. I’m sure you have cases to deal with, go do you job, let us do ours.”

“And for the record, the Burning Man saved all our asses when that whole in the sky opened, I know what I saw,” Kebibi crossed her arms. “And leave off with the Freak business. Discrimination and hate speech, that’s what it is. Hardly workplace appropriate.”

The offending officer stalked off, and everyone went back to their work. Kebibi grinned at Cisco, tired. “Sorry you had to hear that. However we do our jobs, you do yours great. Even if we get his spittle, you don’t deserve it. Nice work today, kid.”

Cisco nodded, still uneasy, but that eased some when he found out a day later that the Guibord had applied for a transfer to Keystone. He wasn’t missed.  


* * *

 

Cisco liked his job, which he’d never thought he’d say after his last job ended up being working for a time traveling murderer, helping to build a particle accelerator that blew up a chunk of the city, and technically hadn’t paid regularly since, like, last May. Thank God for patents in his name and the fact that there were mysterious bank accounts probably full of money obtained by Wellsobard’s AI rigging stock markets. But this was a threefold best job ever. Working for the police, helping Barry back at Star labs, and the very occasional field work (only when it couldn’t be helped or when Pied Piper was in town) might have been exhausting, but it was fun. Well, it was fun when it wasn’t terrifying. Even terrifying was becoming the norm, but it helped, knowing he had Barry’s back, and Barry had his.

Except today Cisco had slept in a little late and rushed into work without checking the internet, and Barry was in Star City doing a favor for Oliver, so he’d grabbed a newspaper from Joe’s desk before heading down to the store room to grab his latest project from a secure locker. It wasn’t on the front page, but he still noticed the article, and scanned it quickly, the padlock still in his hand.

 _Executive Order 13-52._ The phrase jumped out at him. _Metahuman registration. Required. For the good and protection of. Consequences. US General Wade Eiling._ Cisco tried to slow his breathing, hoping no one had followed him down and noticed his face going paler. A furtive glance around the room showed that it was empty except for the desk sergeant who was busy with a crossword. Cisco swallowed hard, pressure building in his ears. _This can’t be legal, can it?_ But there it was in black and white, and Eiling in charge of the program. Did the governor who’d signed off know what that man had done to metahumans? Or did he know and not care? Surely there were others like that one cop who hated metas, hell, even Patty hadn’t been particularly kindly toward the idea. People liked the Flash, but there were still those who mistrusted him, and he was the exception more often than not.

Panic started to settle in like a second skin. _Be calm. Just get to Joe, he knows, he’ll know what to do. I can hide out at Star or something if …no, no one knows, I’ve been careful. Right? I mean, they don’t know about Barry and he’s as subtle as a brick sometimes, so…I’m…probably good, ok just breath, go upstairs, get a plane ticket. This’ll blow over soon, right? Oh god._ Cisco was almost so wrapped up in his thoughts as he made his way back to his cramped desk that he didn’t hear the shift in breathing from the other task force members. He stopped dead, looking around for an escape. Joe was gone, shit, where was Joe?

“Damn,” Officer Cooper muttered, and Cisco was certain he was the only one who heard. “I was hoping he hadn’t seen yet.”

Officer Ahuda looked at the others. ”You should leave,” she said, her voice level. “I need to talk to Ramon. Alone”

 _Last name, oh crap, oh crap._ Cisco’s eyes darted to the others, he knew them all. His tech had saved them all before. He hoped that was worth their not abandoning him now. No one moved.

“I think _you_ should all leave,” one of the detectives, Wyldon, put in, his tone leaving little room for argument. The room argued, silent, unmoving. Cisco took a step backwards. Jig was up, but like hell was he just going to stand there.

“Oh for—“ Officer Goodwin finally snapped. “We know. Pretty sure every one of us knows, so let’s cut the awkwardness, it’s not doing anyone any good. Stop shaking, kid. Relax.”

Cisco did not relax, if anything, his heartrate kicked it up a notch or twelve.

“Ramon. Ramon—Cisco. Listen.” Cooper glanced at her partner. “We’re on your side. No one is gonna lay a finger on you so long as I—we—are still breathing, got that? No one in this room, no one outside this room, no one following that order.”

Cisco swallowed, still trembly, still shaking.

Wyldon rolled his eyes and settled his stance. “Who here owes this kid their lives?” When every hand went up, he added on, “Who here’s gonna respect that?” Every hand stayed up. “Who here’s gonna turn on a fellow badge because of some crap from some dickweed general thinks is needful?” Every hand shot down fast enough that Cisco thought even Barry might miss the movement.

“Satisfied?” Officer Ahuda asked. “You’re one of us. We don’t turn on our own without damn good cause, and that chicken scratch isn’t any kind of cause, let alone good.”

It was then that Joe walked in, face as dark as a thunder cloud, his hand already at his hip. “Cisco,” he said warningly, looking at the others. Goodwin flashed him a grin.

“West, we’ve worked together for years, you think that little of me? Rude. Relax, we’ve got his back. I know you know about him, I’ve known since the Rathaway thing last month.”

“Same,” Cooper added.

“I figured it out around Christmas,” Ahuda muttered. “Look, we just want you to know, we trust you, you can trust us. We’re a team, after all. If you ever need anything, you can call us if you can’t call your friend in the spandex.”

“It’s not spandex,” Cisco finally said, his brain processing that at least.

“Sure,” Wyldon raised a brow. “Look, if you wanna take off, you can. Just know we’ve got your back if push comes to shove.”

There was a chorus of agreement, and Cisco felt his hands steady, some. He ducked his head. “Thanks.”

“Yeah, well, you can’t build the stuff we need to keep the city safe if you’re dead in a gutter or hiding out in some godforsaken basement in Alaska,” Goodwin quirked a smile.

“Plus, we like you,” Ahuda put in. “Now, you gonna bolt, or are you gonna tell us about what you’ve got there?”

Cisco looked to Joe, who shrugged but nodded, and Cisco set the device down on the desk. “Well, it’s not finished yet, but when it’s done, it’ll help reduce the effect of concussive attacks.”

As he explained and people nodded, Cisco felt his heartrate drop back to normal.

* * *

Barry worked over time the next few days, not as himself but as the Flash. Jax’s mom and Clarissa Stein were the first to get relocated to places where Eiling couldn’t get at them, just in case, with Firestorm themselves taking off to parts unknown. Barry offered to get the metas he was aware of out of dodge, but Shawna had already noped off to the east coast, and frankly, that was kind of the extent of the list of Metahumans who he knew about that didn’t want him dead. So for three days, he simply ran himself ragged, searching for people and keeping a close eye out for Eiling’s people.

Cisco had enlisted Felicity to help him hack into the records, and the few people who had registered, Barry tracked down to offer a quick escape. Only one had taken him up on the offer. The others had cleary never read a comic book or watched a movie, trusting fully in the government. That, or they had already gone. Cisco and Barry hoped they had left voluntarily.

Cisco had busied himself trying to create something that might block a metahuman detection device like the ones Harry had used, but since Eiling might be using completely different tech, it was guesswork at best. Still, with a week past and still no obvious signs of trouble—no armies in the street, no word of public arrests, things seemed to calm some.

Cisco was heading from the break room back to his desk when Kebibi Ahuda and Detective Wyldon cornered him. “We’re going down to evidence, you’re coming too, be calm,” the man murmured.

“That General is here, and he’s got what looks like a small army with him. Quick.” Ahuda led the way towards the stairs. Cisco reached for his phone, but stopped. If he called Barry, out on a case with Joe, Barry would come. Which would have been great, except that Eiling had the tech to fight him, to stop him, to hurt him. Calling Barry would only get him outed to the entire precinct and caught. Caught was worse, Cisco knew. His hands and feet felt numb as he walked, trying not to draw attention.

They didn’t make it.

“Mr. Ramon, just who I was looking for.” Eiling’s voice made Cisco flinch, and every cop in the room went tense, shifting. Swallowing hard, Cisco forced his voice even. There was a chance, however small, that maybe Eiling didn’t know—the man wasn’t psychic, they’d never really interacted. “You work for STAR Labs. Ground Zero for the metahuman infestation.”

Someone legitimately growled at that. Cisco hoped it was a cop on his side snarling at the term “infestation” and not one of Eiling’s uniformed cohorts who blamed him. The bullpen was almost completely silent, a rare feat, as officers, detectives, civilians, and soldiers exchanged glances.

“I work here, actually. And we’re busy.” Cisco tried for casual-slash-no-nonsense. “Make an appointment with the chief.”

Eiling’s eyes went hard. “Do you have any idea who you’re dealing with? I know you’re the one who helped Iron Heights with their tech. You’re the head consultant for tech in dealing with these freaks. Your country requires your assistance.” The general stepped forward, Ahuda and Wyldon remained stalwart barriers between him and Cisco.

“Then the country can file the paperwork and offer him a job, and he can turn it down. This isn’t war and there’s no draft.” Officer Goodwin drawled from the other side of the room, inspecting a stack of forms on her desk.

“That’s where you would be wrong, miss.” Eiling snapped. Goodwin bristled, cat-like, at the condescension. “We  _ are _ at war. Have been for months now. Read a newspaper once in a while and you’ll see what I mean.  Mr. Ramon, I think, knows that better than anyone. He and his...friends.”

_ Oh, no. He knows Barry’s connected to STAR, he knows I’m connected to Barry. _ Being snatched for tech was slightly better than being snatched for being a metahuman, but being taken as bait for Barry would be catastrophic, especially since that implied the other two fates as a not-actually-bonus bonus.  Cisco froze, panic making his ears ring. He could make a break for it. He wasn’t the best with sonic attacks yet, but he could out himself and run for it, and hope...except that then he’d probably get accused of assaulting Eiling and his goon squad, and get arrested for that and evading capture and resisting arrest. He was no speedster, and he couldn’t think of a way out, not with Eiling just standing there, watching him.

“General, what is the meaning of this?” Cisco turned to see Captain Singh striding in, furious. “You may have some fancy signatures on a bit of paper, but until I see specific warrants with names, you have no right to interrogate or commandeer my people. You came for records, you got them, now  _ leave. _ ”

 

Eiling smiled lazily, planting his feet.

 

“That wasn’t a request, General. You don’t have jurisdiction here in my precinct,” the captain’s voice was soft, dangerously so. Cisco wasn’t sure if that was true, but since Martial Law hadn’t been proclaimed...probably? Maybe he’d get out of this, after all. He shoved shaking hands in his pockets.

“Of course,” Eiling said after a pause. “We’ll be on our way. I look forward to working with you someday soon, Mr. Ramon.”

Cisco knew it was happening even as the general took a step forward, hand raised as if to shake, the watch around his wrist horribly familiar. Heart pounding, Cisco closed his eyes. A shrill buzz blared.

“Huh. Would you look at that? A metahuman freak hiding in plain sight.” Eiling’s smirk was audible, but there was a hint of surprise in it, as well. From the quick, sharp gasp, Cisco was fairly certain he wasn’t the only one shocked. Cisco opened his eyes, heart in his throat.

Kebibi Ahuda stood directly in front of him, blocking Eiling’s arm. She held her head high, and her hands out. “Oh, drat,” she deadpanned. “Cat’s out of the bag. Check your fancy list, I’m not registered. Doesn’t that mean you gotta take me to your shady little black ops prison? C’mon, we all know you have one.”

 

Everything seemed frozen around them for a moment, and then Cisco and Ahuda saw other officers reaching for their weapons. Most of Eiling’s crew tightened white-knuckled grips on their own firearms. The cop caught one of her would be defenders’ eye and held it, shaking her head slightly.  _ Don’t start a war over me,  _ the older woman seemed to be saying as Eiling pulled a set of cuffs from his pocket.

“If I were you, officer, I’d be quiet. The governor’s order was clear, and it’ll be going up the ladder soon enough. What sort of abilities do you have, I wonder?”

“I make flowers grow, you son of a—“ She cut herself off as Eiling’s eyes flickered over her shoulder, meeting Cisco’s.

Cisco realized too late that as soon as Eiling reached past her, that watch would go off again, and stumbled back, directly into another of Eiling’s goons. The man’s own watch, a mirror copy of Eiling’s, shrieked. Cisco felt the blood drain from his face, and Officer Ahuda hung her head.

“Well isn’t that something. Captain Singh, how many of your people are failing to comply with Order 13-52, I wonder.” Cisco didn’t have time to bolt, and even as Officer Kent drew his gun, Cisco felt someone behind him clamp something around his neck. Instantly, the world seemed muffled, blurred. He swayed, and in desperation found the smallest kernel of an idea. He clapped his hands to his ears for a moment as the soldier who’d collared him like a stray dog dragged them down.

“Eiling, you have no right to take my people, order or no.” Singh snapped, striding closer and blocking the door. “Kent, weapon down. If they’ve broken the law, they get arrested, trials, lawyers, and we have metahuman holding cells here. You aren’t taking them anywhere.” The man’s voice shook with hardly contained fury.

Eiling brandished paper at him. “That’s not how this works. Step aside, or I promise you, you will regret it. You want to start a war over this, a couple of criminal freaks?”

“They’re my people. We’ll handle this.”

Eiling didn’t even bother to refuse, just signaled his men to move, pulling Cisco and a similarly collared Ahuda with them. Protests rang out, several officers tried to get between the exit and the general, but too soon they were out in the Central City sunshine. Several cars were parked, and a van. That was where they shoved their captives, in plain view of any out on the street. Eiling smirked again, and Cisco dug in his heels.

“They’ll find out eventually. What you’re going to do to us, to the metas you’ve already kidnapped. What you did to Bette San Souci.”

Eiling pushed him hard and Cicso stumbled, but Eiling caught him by the shirt. Ahuda got half free, ramming a soldier who held her in the gut, but couldn’t manage more.

“How do you know about the Sargent?”

“She told us, before you shot her. About the experiments you and your man—“Cisco blanked on the name for a moment, “Dr. Hadley, did. Me an’ her, we both know what you’re doing. So do a lot of other people. They’ll get you for it, they’ll find evidence and you’ll be disgraced.”

“I very much doubt that,” Eiling hissed, manhandling Cisco into the back of the van. “But thanks for the tip, Ramon. I’ll have our records disposed of. We didn’t get anything useful out of that upstart anyway. No one found her body, no one will find her name, either.”

Cisco grimaced as he and Ahuda were locked in.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I thought I could distract him from you.”

“It’s not your fault,” Cisco replied automatically. “But we’ve got to get out. Eiling killed a friend of mine, tortured another.”

“And he’s probably doing the same to any poor sods he’s picked up and plans to to us. Otherwise why a separate prison when there’s a perfectly good metahuman wing at IH? Look, I meant my promise. I’ll do everything in my power to keep you protected. I swore that oath a long time ago, before all this superpower bullshit.” Ahuda said, voice soft. “Oh, I am going to look forward to watching him get his ass kicked. Give me thirty seconds without this damn collar and nothing to lose…”

“I’m guessing it’s not plants, then.” Cisco asked, trying to lighten the mood. There was enough darkness in the future.

“Hell yeah, it’s plants. You ever see what bamboo can do to concrete? What about you, Cisquixote?”

Cisco  chewed a lip. “Vibe.”

“No kidding, that’s you? Well, then we’ll be out of this in no time. Between our family at the station and your merry band of vigilantes…”

“I hope so.”

“No time” took two red lights and a roundabout, or approximately five minutes and 10 seconds. The van jolted and jerked to a stop, and even with his powers cut off, Cisco had no trouble feeling the vibrations pulsing through it until with a loud whine it went dead. Sounds of a fight came through the walls, and someone ripped the door open. Cisco had expected to see Barry, but it wasn’t the familiar red-clad figure who had come to the rescue.

 

“Officer?” Ahuda asked, clambering to her feet and Officer Cooper scrambled in and hauled Cisco up. At her back were others that Cisco recognized, at least half the task force.

“C’mon,” Cooper shouted as Officer--crap, Cisco knew the guy’s name, was it Thompson?--held up a very familiar gadget, and pressed the button. Instantly, Cisco’ felt lighter, and he guessed that the EMP device had also knocked out Ahuda’s collar because no sooner than they were clear of the van than the nearby oak tree seemed to turn into the Whomping Willow. It knocked the transport van and the soldiers sideways into the roundabout, and the ferns took care of the rest. Rescuers and rescuees booked it back to the station.

* * *

 

For a precinct where all hell was breaking loose and an actual fight with the state government and US Military might be looming, it was fairly calm. Surprisingly calm. Captain Singh clapped Cisco and Ahuda both on the backs.

“Well, that was not the morning I had planned, but…” he shook his head. “I’m glad you’re both safe. Nice job with that earbud, Ramon. I have a feeling the Governor might change his tune, we got the whole thing recorded. Unis are picking up Hadley now, and I asked the Flash--he showed up about ten seconds after you, ah, left--to see about getting those files  _ Mr.  _ Eiling wanted destroyed.”

Cisco felt the air hum in relief, felt his own knees sag, but the captain wasn’t done. “Ra--Cisco. Do you have a place to hide out for a bit, not connected to you or any of your, ah, friends? Blame for the attack will be on Metahumans, not us, we’re hoping, but you’ll need to lie low for a bit. Ahu--Kebibi?”

“I could do with some vacation time, a friend of mine’s got a condo couple hours from here.” She grinned. “Foresty and everything.” Singh nodded in approval, then looked at Cisco, who shrugged. “I was planning on staying with detective West?”

“No, he’s going to have his own hands full with Allen.” Singh rubbed his brow. “ How do you feel about salads?”

“Uh...no?” Cisco said, confused. “I mean, they’re fine, but--why?”

“Perfect. We’ve got a guest room, and you got kidnapped, that calls for homecooked comfort food, Rob can’t complain about  _ that. _ ”

Cisco blinked, nonplused, but nodded after a moment. “Are you sure--it’ll put you guys in dange--”

“I want two things. My people safe, and a decent dinner without my husband muttering about the perils of red meat and carbs. Don’t deny me that, please.”

When Cisco nodded, Captain Singh clapped his hands.

“Ok everyone, enough standing around. Someone get me the Governor on the phone five minutes ago, and I want patrols keeping an eye out for trouble. Move.”


End file.
